I want to write my story because recently I’ve encountered the attitude that talking about your mental health is attention seeking. This is absolutely not true.
I do not want to be ashamed talking about my mental health because it has been a huge part of my life and has made me the person I am today. I want to help in any way I can to have people relate to my story and feel after they read it, strong enough to call up a friend or talk to a family member.
Growing up as a teenager with mental health problems wasn’t easy. I was misunderstood by my friends, family, teachers and acquaintances. I suppose I didn’t really understand myself what I was going through. I knew that school was a hell of a lot easier for my peers and socialising wasn’t my strong point either.
As a young child, as young as first class in school, I developed anxiety problems. I remember being invited to my friends’ houses on Friday’s after school and regularly pretending I had a sore tummy to avoid having to go. When I got into secondary school my anxiety and depression took over.
I will never forget my first panic attack, I was 14, in second year and myself and my friend were going to go out at lunch time so she could have a cigarette, I didn’t smoke at the time. We were caught by a teacher who gave out to us. I was very upset after being given out to and I wasn’t in the best place at the time which the teachers were unaware of. I went to class and sat at the back. I began to feel shaky all over my body and my chest was extremely heavy. I was gasping for breath and was sitting there feeling paralysed.
The teacher ran to get the Principal, when she arrived she took one look at me sitting there petrified, embarrassed and panicked and said ‘ah sure give her a cigarette and she’ll be grand’. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard, I was sitting there in need of somebody’s help and just somebody to say it will be okay and that’s the kind of support I received.
After that day in school things took a turn for the worst, I was completely overwhelmed, confused, embarrassed, ashamed and frightened. I had never felt such sadness walking home from school. My Mum was working that day and my Dad wouldn’t notice me come in, this was my chance I thought to myself. My chance to escape this misery and take this heavy burden away from my family. I’m not going to go into detail to explain what happened next.
I then ended up in St. Vincent’s hospital A&E who referred me to Lucena clinic for adolescents where I was diagnosed with a generalised anxiety disorder and clinical depression and regularly saw a Psychiatrist and a Counsellor. I was prescribed anti-depressants and sleeping tablets. School became associated with feeling unsafe. I was in and out of school barley able to get myself out of bed because of being heavily sedated from the medication.
The ‘fun’ with medication started then, I would say I started on 20 or so different medications each one would have more severe side-affects than the others, nightmares, heart palpitations, disassociation, insomnia, hallucinations, the list goes on.
As the trial and error with the medication was happening, my anxiety was stopping me doing the normal things teenagers were doing. The anxiety and panic attacks were so crippling I felt debilitated and inadequate in everything I did. It would get to the point that it was hard to leave the house for the smallest things.
In September 2014 I was hospitalised. I was a patient of St. John of Gods hospital for six weeks. I was struggling badly with panic attacks and a dissociative disorder, this means that I felt detached from the world. I describe it as not feeling like a person and that the world around you is not real. I felt a strong detachment from my family, boyfriend and friends. Later on, I found out it was the medication causing this to happen. Side-affects like this are very uncommon, eventually I found the right medication that suited me and this helped me tackle the depression and anxiety.
In St. John of Gods I learned to open up about my illness, something I wasn’t good at. I suppose when you are immersed in a situation where everyone is dealing with a similar illness it becomes much easier to talk openly and comfortably about it. The first few weeks were tough but I started to come out the other side and within 6 weeks I was really feeling myself again.
I had 3 stays in St. John of Gods hospital in the past 18 months and I finally feel like I’ve gotten on top of things now. I have started up my own novelty cake business which is really taking off and I am seeing things in a new positive light particularly with the help of Cognitive Behavioural therapy, mindfulness and meditation. These approaches really gave me the tools to help in managing anxiety levels and overcoming depression.
I am also very much in favour of exercise being a key factor to maintaining good mental health as well as taking small steps to avoid feeling overwhelmed and finding the balance in everyday life. All of these combined helped me along with my recovery. I know this illness is relentless and it takes a lot of patience and strength. It took me so long to come to terms with the fact there is no getting rid of this illness or being told ‘you’re cured’ but it’s an ongoing journey of coming to peace with it all. Once you learn to manage it – you can live your life to the full.
If you are struggling, please don’t give up. There’s light at the end of the tunnel for all of us. Take action today, talk to someone you can trust and get the help you deserve.
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